The Book Of Akhiro
by Tastes-Like-Urine
Summary: Strange happenings at Hogwarts make Harry, Hermione and Ron suspect things are not as they should be...


"Harry we're going to be late!", moaned Hermione, grabbing her bag tightly to stop it swinging off her shoulders  
Harry didn't reply. Instead, he continued to run down the corridor, Hermione and Ron dragging behind him.  
"Where is it?" he mumbled to himself, stopping in front of a painting of a handsome young wizard  
"Um I don't mean to be rude, Harry...", said Hermione, catching up with him  
"What the hell are you looking for!", Ron finished for Hermione, who had turned a colour which seemed to almost match his hair. He was panting furiously and looking around for an answer to his question.  
Harry paused for a second, pondering how to reply. He looked at them both, before drawing a deep breath, and turning his eyes back to the portrait in front of him.  
"I heard.. I mean, I thought I heard..", He started slowly, pondering what exactly it was he had heard.  
"Heard.. what?", panted Ron, who now had his hands on his knees, in a vain attempt to catch his breath.  
"Uh well... Maybe I imagined it, but I thought.. I thought I heard screaming" Harry finished lamely, looking away from them. It now seemed foolish to have run off like that. It only occurred to him at that moment that had there been actual screams, the entire Griffyndor house would have heard them. Finding the sudden silence unnerving, he turned back to face Hermione and Ron.

Hermione was looking at him concernedly, fumbling nervously at her bag straps. She kept opening her mouth as if about to say something, then closing it again. Ron was still crouched down, his hands on his knees, but was looking up at Harry with an odd expression of mingled confusion and worry.  
"Err.. screaming?", Ron queried worriedly, a slight shake in his voice.  
"Yeah", replied Harry, turning his gaze away from them. He looked around wildy for something to look at; something other than their vacant expressions. His eyes settled on the portrait at the end of the corridor.  
"Um, maybe you should go to the hospital wing Harry..." Hermione said nervously.  
Harry's face burned with embarrassment. Every passing second of awkwardness seemed to add to the heat in his face. He felt stupid now; but it had seemed so real... so loud inside his head... even now he could still hear the remnants of the shrieking resounding against his skull. He finally turned around to face them both, who were facing each other, apparently deliberating in hushed tones over who should speak next.  
"No I'm fine.", he spoke quickly, causing them to jump slightly apart and quickly fix their eyes on him again.  
"You sure, Harry?", said Ron, still looking confused and staring at him as if he'd grown a third ear.  
"Yeah, let's go to the feast.", Harry replied as he walked through the gap between Ron and Hermione, keeping his gaze fixed defiantly ahead  
"Maybe you should tell Dumbledore, Harry..." suggested Hermione awkwardly, staring down at her bagstraps.  
"No, honestly, I'm fine", Harry said quickly, wishing more than ever to apparate from his current location, "C'mon, we can still make the feast"  
"Harry...", Hermione began. However, a sharp glance from Ron made her reconsider whatever she had planned to say, and she remained silent - though she still continued to look worriedly at Harry.  
"Yeah, let's go, I'm starving", said Ron

All three started walking down the corridor with Hermione casting worried glances at Harry, then turning away again when he noticed. The sixth time this happened, Harry began to get annoyed, and stopped suddenly.  
"Hermione, I'm fine, Okay? I must've just imagined the screaming.", he said, trying his utmost to stop the burning in his face.  
"But Harry!", Hermione protested.  
Harry rolled his eyes, and was about to reply when a sudden harsh voice behind him caused him to freeze.  
"What was that?", he asked, whirling round expectantly  
"Yeah what was that?", Ron chimed in.  
Slightly relieved that Ron could hear it too, Harry began walking slowly back to the portrait at the end of the corridor. The wizard inside the elegant mahogany frame possessed brilliant blue eyes, which rivalled, or even surpassed, Dumbledores. He had a hansome, well defined face, and a multitude of tangled blonde hair, which seemed to grow like wild thorns around the boundaries of his face. Harry gazed at the portrait, searching fruitlessly for anything that was capable of producing the harsh tones they had heard. Then, it suddenly struck him what was odd about this painting; It was not blinking. Indeed, the painting was not moving at all, which was something very peculiar in the magical world.  
"It's not moving", he whispered to himself, moving his hand over the canvas  
"Huh? What's wrong with it?", said Ron, who having grown up in the wizarding world, expected pictures to move around, and found still images unnerving.  
Ron moved closer towards the painting and tapped it sharply. Nothing happened.  
"I dunno. Let's just go down to the feast." Harry replied.  
Ron nodded his agreement, and they turned around and started walking towards Hermione, who was still standing nervously in the spot they'd left her. They were almost level with her, when the portrait behind them began to make strange, laborious, creaking noises. Harry and Ron spun around, their gazes transfixed on the painting which seemed to be slowly swinging opening. Hermione let out a yelp of surprise, before grabbing tightly onto Harry's arm. Once it had swung the way open, the silhouette of a small figure appeared in the doorway, before clambering out. It paused for a moment, before walking slowly and awkwardly towards them, rubbing it's head and mumbling incoherently to itself. Finally, it drew level with them, and Ron, Harry and Hermione gaped expressionlessly as they recognised the person they found themself facing.

"Neville??", Harry finally spoke; still too dumbstruck to say anything which required any quantity of thought. Neville was the last person he had expected to see climbing out of a strange painting on the end of an empty corridor. He wasn't able to recall ever seeing the portrait, or indeed the corridor before; not even on the marauder's map.  
"Oh.. Hello", Neville stuttered, staring at them as if surprised to see them. He had a kind of dazed look about him, and was carrying what seemed to be an incredibly aged book under his right arm.  
Ron stood and gaped at him, apparently too stunned to say anything. Then finally, with a slight shake of his head, he regained his voice..  
"What the hell are you doing here?", he said exasperatedly, his eyes scanning the figure in front of him, as if attempting to make sure it was in fact Neville. Harry suspected that Ron too suspected something much more sinister was lurking behind the painting.  
Neville looked utterly perplexed. He stared at them for a few minutes, before turning his eyes pleadingly to Hermione, who was standing slightly back from the other two, apparently lost for words. However, she quickly snapped out of her startled reverie, put her bag on the floor, and walked slowly towards Neville.  
"Neville, why aren't you at the feast?", she asked kindly, staring at his round, forgetful face.  
Neville looked down at the floor, running his left hand nervously through his hair..  
"Um.. well.. i'm don't really.. know to be honest", he said unsurely, still staring at the marble floor. "I was on my way to the feast, when I heard um.. heard.. something", he trailed off, rubbing his nose nervously.  
"What did you hear Neville?", Hermione encouraged him to continue. Looking away from the floor, Neville now turned his gaze behind him, back to the unmoving portrait on the southern wall.  
"..screaming.", muttered Neville, shaking his head.  
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other, once again lost for words. They then looked back at Neville, who was still staring at the portrait, swaying slightly on the spot. All the colour in his face was slowly seeping out of him, and they all had the impression that he was about to faint.  
"Err.. Are you okay, Neville?", Harry asked gingerly  
"Oh! Yeah, I'm fine", Neville replied weakly, before turning round and smiling at them  
Harry exchanged worried glances with Hermione, before the silence was broken by Ron  
"Are we going down to the feast then?", he asked hopefully. "I'm starving."  
Hermioned glared at Ron, as if trying to mentally scold him for his lack of sensativity. Neville however, giggled slightly to himself, before proceeding to walk along the corridor.  
"The feast! We must hurry!", he said jovially, in a voice most unlike his own. "Onwards!".  
Neville walked swiftly around the corner, leaving Harry and Hermione to once again to look concernedly at each other.  
"Acting a bit odd, wasn't he?", mused Ron, scratching his head.  
"Oh really? We didn't notice.", Hermione said scathingly, before picking up her bag, and proceeding to walk in the direction Neville was heading  
"Come on", she muttered, "We need to find him"  
Ron glared at Hermione's retreating figure, mumbling breathlessly, he was about to say something when Harry interrupted him.  
"C'mon", said Harry urgently.


End file.
